December 10, 2009

They sat, eyes fixed on the images that flickered in front of their eyes, friends trapped in a radio station so they can tell the world what dirty politics is all about. They sat, listening to what the friends had to say as they held hands in their very last minutes, tears streaming down their faces.

When the screen went lifeless after three long hours, they waited for the lights to come on, for the credits to roll, for the people to file out of the hall, for the stillness of an empty theatre. They waited, until the stall boy came to usher them out, saying it was time for the next show and they had to clear the place.

They filtered out of the hall then, footsteps in slo-mo, and made their way to the cafe that had seen them spend five years of studying, competitions, lectures, bunking class, love, hatred, envy and conversations. An hour to the farewell in college, two weeks before the final exams that would then determine their worth. Two weeks before they would take those first tentative steps into worlds that would be waiting for them, worlds that they may not go to, together.

"Let's do this...let's promise to be together across geographies, lets know what is happening in each other's lives."

"Yeah, totally. And let's make this a pact, right? We will approve each other's men and if we don't, then we will just have to look for the man that everybody approves of."

"Dude, that IS silly now."

"No, I don't think so, c'mon, that way we will all be involved and stay in touch."

"I still think it's a bit much..."

"Deal or not...?"

"Uhh...okay. Deal."

And so it was. The farewell happened. Post graduations happened. And so did jobs.

They moved cities, they moved countries, they moved continents. Marriages happened, houses were bought.

Fashions changed and so did career interests. And all this, on the foundation of broken sisterhoods. Long forgotten, long lost. To the extent that death may come...but time still happens. Life still goes on.